


Hey, Playboy

by MarkedMage



Series: Modern dorks [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends With Benefits, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25854439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkedMage/pseuds/MarkedMage
Summary: In which Jet is thirsty, Zuko is drunk, and both are prone to making dumb decisions.
Relationships: Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Modern dorks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876075
Comments: 20
Kudos: 97





	Hey, Playboy

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all those anons on tumblr talking to me about Jetko, PLUS [ZutaraWasRobbed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZutaraWasRobbed/pseuds/ZutaraWasRobbed) AND [airiustide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airiustide) for being thirsty enablers of chaos. ZutaraWasRobbed was begging me for weeks to write a Jetko prequel, and I finally relented, mainly because I love her to death and come on, jetko is hot, ok?
> 
> Title taken from the OG thot anthem, Playboy, by EXO (My absolute loves. Stan kings.)
> 
> Prequel to "I can feel it in my bones," but you don't necessarily have to read that one to know what's going on. Only the ending might be a bit confusing.

It's a Friday night, and Zuko's pretty sure there's about a thousand things he could be doing than standing in this dirty frat house, drinking a lukewarm beer and trying to avoid the sight of Chan macking on Azula. The beer isn't helping much on that end, so Zuko downs it, crushing the can and dumping it to the side. He needs something stronger.

He makes his way through the throngs of people gyrating to the pounding bass, heading for the kitchen. There, he rustles through the cabinets until he finds a bottle of cheap vodka, still sealed. He glances around, making sure no one sees his shitty theft, and runs, bottle held tight in his fingers.

He finds Jet a few minutes later, cocking a brow at his housemate. It takes Jet a few minutes to get the hint, and another few to pull his tongue out of the other boy's throat, and then another few to get a phone number, before wandering over to Zuko's side.

"Yo, pretty boy," Jet drawls, eyes wandering up and down Zuko's form. Zuko's used to Jet's blatant flirting by now, and doesn't react, just holds up the vodka in response.

They shuffle off to the side of the house, away from the noise and the crowds. Zuko takes a swig of the vodka, cringing at the cheap taste, and hands it off to Jet.

"Who was that?" He asks. Jet swallows, and hands the bottle back.

"Some kid named Shao," he says. He looks over to Zuko and frowns. "What, no one here to your liking tonight?"

Zuko rolls his eyes, taking another sip of vodka. A few girls wander past, and he lets his gaze roam lazily over their forms, before passing the bottle back.

"Chan's with Azula," he says with finality, and Jet snorts.

"What, so watching your sister sucking face with a boy ruins the mood? My dude, we could get a whole group of girls over here in  _ seconds _ , and make you forget your entire problem." Jet's got a cocky grin on his face, and Zuko's half tempted to wipe that smile off of his lips with his own, because even though they're friends, Zuko's got an annoying  _ crush,  _ but he's too sober to do anything about it.

So he takes a shot, and another, and another, before he hands the bottle back to Jet. Jet quirks a brow at Zuko, almost as if daring him, and Zuko briefly entertains the fantasy of pressing Jet up against the wall, tasting his skin until his friend is seeing stars. "Am I right?" Jet asks, referring to the previous topic, and Zuko shakes off the image of Jet naked below him, but lets it hover on the edges of his consciousness.

Zuko shrugs, finally feeling the alcohol doing its job, weighing his limbs down and clouding over his thoughts. He catches sight of a pretty boy with dyed silver hair, who blinks over at him coquettishly. The boy's shirt is tastefully unbuttoned, exposing miles and miles of light skin begging to be marked. Zuko's had enough vodka to want to wander over and introduce himself, but not enough to actually do it. Plus, Jet is leaning in, breath hot and heavy on Zuko's neck.

"No girls," Zuko finally says, and the silver haired boy loses interest. Zuko looks to Jet, finding his friend slightly too close and yet, not close enough. "Just not feeling it."

Jet licks his lips, and Zuko tracks the movements. "Any boys then?"

Once again, Zuko has to appreciate his good taste in roommates. His first, Song, not minding that he had a thing for her girlfriend Jin, especially after being their third for a night. His second, Haru, for always paying rent on time and even giving Zuko food. And finally, Jet, accepting Zuko's bisexuality and countering it with his own.

"Don't know," Zuko mumbles out. The lights are bright now, making Jet's eyes gleam. They look like dewdrops of amber, flecked with green that reminds Zuko of blades of grass.  _ Pretty _ , he thinks, and Jet laughs, making him realize that the vodka has made him loose-lipped, and Jet heard it all.

"Come on,  _ pretty _ boy," Jet says, throwing Zuko's drunken words back into his face. Zuko's got half a mind to protest, but Jet is quicker, grabbing Zuko's wrist. He leans in close, lips brushing Zuko's cheek briefly, sending a wave of  _ want  _ flushing through his body. "I've got just the thing for you."

Zuko follows as Jet pulls him back into the house. Jet whispers in the ear of a frat boy, Ruon-Jian, before going into a back room, rummaging around until there's a gleaming bottle of clear liquid in his hands.

"This'll get you fucked up, make you forget about Azula and her boy toy," Jet says. He grabs a cup, making sure it's relatively clean, and pours Zuko a healthy amount. "Drink."

Zuko takes it, not bothering to even sniff, because whatever it is, Zuko is the king of bad decisions, and Jet is his number one enabler. So he takes the cup and chugs, eyes watering as the  _ disgusting  _ liquid burns it's way down his throat. 

"Holy fuck," he splutters, and Jet laughs, taking the cup back. "What in the name of all spirits is that shit?"

"Moonshine," Jet says, and pours himself one. Then he takes Zuko's wrist, bottle still in hand, and drags him back to the party, eyes twinkling. "Let's go get fucked up."

By definition, getting fucked up for Zuko usually means spending the night in, with a six pack of his favorite beer and a solid movie. Maybe a low-key bar with friends, with good beer and food to match. Or, potentially getting laid, boy or girl, or even better,  _ both. _

Jet's definition is wildly different than his own. For starters, there's shitty alcohol involved. Lots of it. And second, it comes with Zuko somehow losing his shirt, and there's a girl  _ and  _ a guy doing body shots off him.

This is exactly what Zuko needs. Drunk and now horny, to top it off.

He pants, eyes dark, as the boy licks down to his navel. The girl is already pulling away, and Zuko groans, pushing the boy's head away. A hand finds his shoulder, and he stands, meeting Jet's dark gaze.

"Hey," Jet says, helping Zuko stagger away, sans shirt. "How's it going?"

"I'm fucked," Zuko slurs. "So fucked."

Jet laughs, and Zuko, in his hazed and drunken state, does not miss the way his friend's hands linger too long on his hips, scratching at his vee and abs. The action in itself makes the blood pool in his already half-hardened state, and he groans.

_ What the hell,  _ he thinks, and he wraps his hand around Jet's strong arm.  _ I'm already damned _ .

So he does what his drunk brain has been begging him to do for hours, and pulls Jet close, kissing him hard.

Jet doesn't hesitate. He pushes Zuko's shoulders, shoving him back until his back meets the cool wall, making Zuko gasp. Jet's mouth is demanding, unrelenting, and he kisses Zuko hard. There's spice and moonshine on Jet's tongue, filthy and dirty, and Zuko moans, hands scrabbling at Jet's back.

"Fuck, Zuko," Jet says, pulling away from Zuko's swollen mouth. He peppers soft kisses down the column of Zuko's throat, fingers imprinting their mark in Zuko's abs, his pecs, his vee. Zuko groans, cupping Jet's ass, panting, and Jet pulls away far enough to meet Zuko's heat filled gaze. "Wanna get out of here?" 

Zuko groans in response, making Jet laugh. He tugs Zuko's hand, whispers, "Alright, come on," and they make their way back out of the house. Jet flags one of the sober drivers, giving them directions back to the apartment, and tugs Zuko into the back seat, pressing hot kisses against his throat and palming Zuko through his jeans.

"Fuck, Zuko," is what Jet whispers, with Zuko panting messily in his throat. Zuko's hand is tracing little circles under Jets shirt, nails digging into his abs with every press of palm. Their driver is probably glaring daggers through the rearview mirror, but all Zuko can focus on is the heat of Jet's hand on him and the satly taste of his housemate's skin on his tongue.

They make it back to the apartment, but just barely. The door slams behind them, and Jet shuffles Zuko into his room, throwing him onto the mattress with little effort.

"Fuck, you're hot," Zuko groans, undoing the button and zipper on his jeans. Jet smirks, eyes twinkling, and pulls his shirt off, making Zuko's mouth go dry.

"Have you seen yourself?" Jet asks, climbing onto the bed and straddling Zuko's thighs. His hands run up and down Zuko's abs, scratching at the trail of hair below Zuko's navel, and smirks when he gasps.

He grinds down on Zuko, making him groan, and Zuko grabs onto Jet's hips, fingers digging into the skin. Jet leans down, lips latching onto Zuko's neck, tongue running circles on his skin, and Zuko moans, their hips grinding together. The heat builds in Zuko's groin, and he reaches in between them, undoing Jet's pants to grasp him fully.

Jet hisses, stilling above him, eyes clamping shut. Zuko leans up, one hand curling on his nape, kissing him hard, the other hand unrelenting, stroking Jet until he's gasping Zuko's name. His hand fumble, reaching into Zuko's jeans, moaning, but manages to grab at Zuko, stroking him at the same pace and making Zuko see stars.

"Fuck," Zuko finally says, pulling away from Jet's lips. He's breathing hard, a cloud filling his mind, but he's got enough willpower left in him to push Jet's hands away. "What do you want?" 

Jet studies him, fingers dancing along the muscles of his abs, and his lips ghost along the skin of his neck. Zuko's got half a mind to roll over and let Jet have his way with him, but another part of him stays still waiting to see what will happen.

"Mhm," Jet murmurs, his voice a low, throaty groan in Zuko's ear, making his blood boil. Jet's lips trace a fiery path down Zuko's skin, tongue tracing a line down the column of Zuko's throat. "As much of a fantasy it is to have you pressed down into my sheets, I've been wanting to get my hands on this for a long time," Jet says, sliding off Zuko's lap, nudging his thighs open. He settles in the crook of Zuko's hips, mouth tonguing the flange of Zuko's hipbone, nibbling at his skin, making Zuko's heave a breath. His hands play with the waistband of Zuko's boxers, eyes gleaming, and he lowers his lips to kiss Zuko through his boxers.

Zuko grumbles, but lifts his hips, letting Jet pull his jeans and boxers off. He inhales sharply when Jet touches him with gentle fingers, stroking softly, yet firmly, and his skin dances at his touch.

"Fuck, you look so good," Jet murmurs, pressing a kiss to the head, making Zuko keen. "I can't wait to fucking taste you."

Zuko moans, and Jet leans in, sucking softly, his hand stroking sure, soft strokes that has Zuko keening. He pants, lifting his head, tangles his fingers in Jet's soft hair. His friend smirks, sucking hard, making Zuko gasp, fingers tightening in Jet's scalp.

Jet pulls off, making Zuko gasp, a part of him desperate to have Jet's mouth back on him, another part yearning for more. Jet crawls up Zuko's body, pressing fluttering kisses up Zuko's chest, before kissing Zuko hard. He gasps into Jet's mouth, tasing himself on his tongue, and scrabbles to push Jet's pants off. 

"Fuck, Jet," he breathes. "I need- fuck, I-"

Jet pulls away, tearing the rest of his clothes off in his haste. Zuko props himself up on his elbows, staring unabashedly at the miles and miles of gorgeous, tan skin just begging to be marked, and Jet smirks. "Like what you see?"

Zuko grins, leaning forward, and Jet bends down, letting Zuko curl his hand into his hair and bring him into a searing kiss. Jet's mouth is heavenly, tasting of alcohol and boy and  _ sex _ , and finally, Jet pulls away, rummaging in his nightstand for a condom and lube.

He returns to the bed, flopping on his stomach, giving Zuko a delicious view of his backside, and tossed the supplies at Zuko. "Hurry up," he murmurs, reaching out and stroking Zuko. "I want you in me."

And well, how can Zuko say no to that?

He rolls over, pressing a kiss to Jet's ass, fingers rubbing over his skin. Jet hisses, muscles tensing, but Zuko holds him down. "Fucking get on with it," Jet snarls, looking over his shoulder. His eyes burn, and he smirks, arching his back. "Never pegged you to be such a tease."

"I'm warming you up," Zuko fires back, fingers digging into Jet's skin. He rust against Jet's ass, moaning, and bites down on Jet's shoulder. "Unless you can't take a little heat."

Jet's eyes grow dark, and he grins, turning his head to press a sloppy kiss on Zuko's cheek. "I can take it all," he murmurs, and Zuko's brain short circuits. He arches again, grinding his ass into Zuko's hips, making him shudder. "You'd be surprised by how much I can handle." 

Zuko sighs. "Fucking hell, Jet," he mumbles. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Jet laughs. "Maybe," he says, and looks over his shoulder, biting his lip. "I'm getting a whole lot of talk and not enough action, Zuko. For someone who wanted to get out of here, you're really not making it worth my time."

Zuko grinds down harshly, making Jet cry out, eyes glazing. Zuko smirks, coating his fingers, and reaches down, finding that fluttering furl of skin that makes Jet catch his breath. "You were saying?"

Jet pants, and Zuko kisses his shoulder, stretching him as quickly and as painlessly as possible. Jet shivers, skin heating up, and Zuko peppers kisses into the small of his back.

"Fuck," Jet breathes. He turns his head, glaring at Zuko with heat in his eyes. "I'm ready. Get in me already."

Zuko responds with a slap to Jet's ass, making him yelp. "Asshole," he snaps, tearing open the condom. "You're the one who's taking it. And there's a lot of me to go around, you dick. I'm just trying to help."

Jet smirks, reaching back to grasp Zuko firmly. "Trust me," he purrs, and Zuko thrusts into his hand, gasps. "I know how much I'm taking. I can handle it." His voice drops. "Can you?"

Zuko grins, and grabs Jet's hips. "I do my best," is what he comes up with, and then he begins the first torturous slide in, making Jet seize and gasp.

"Fuck, you're big," Jet wheezes, dropping to his elbows. "Shit, that feels good." He gasps as Zuko pushes in, until their hips are pressed flush, and then he turns his head, giving Zuko that signature smirk of his.

"Give it to me, pretty boy," he says. "Show me what you got." 

Zuko growls, fingers digging into Jet's hip, and he reaches down, grabbing Jet's right arm, pulling it behind his back. "Watch it," he snarls, and Jet laughs, breaking off into a strangled gurgle as Zuko thrust his hips. He fucks Jet hard, with quick, snapping thrusts of his hips, drowning in the heat of his housemate's body until he's seeing stars.

Jet is a moaning mess below him, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut. Zuko isn't far off, letting go of Jet's wrist in favor of his hips, snapping forward, drowning in Jet's delicious heat. "Zuko," Jet murmurs, body arching, and Zuko leans forward, cupping his chest and pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. He drinks in Jet's cries, thrusting harder at his pleas for  _ more _ , and the tightness coils low in Zuko's belly. He won't be able to take much more of this, and neither will Jet.

So he reaches down, grasping at Jet, stroking him in time to his thrusts. Jet groans, blindly reaching behind him, and grasps at Zuko's hips, nails digging into his skin. "Zuko," he moans, and Zuko leans in, grabbing at Jet's throat with his free hand to pull him into a kiss.

It doesn't take long after that. Jet, crying out, his mouth gaping as Zuko kisses him, hips stuttering in Zuko's hand. He comes harshly, a mess of  _ please  _ and moans dribbling from his lips, and Zuko lets him drop, grabbing at his hips. He thrusts a few more times before he comes, hips slamming into Jet's and crying out. He holds Jet against him, pressed tight, until he's able to find his breath again, and then pulls out gingerly, winces as Jet squeezes.

"Fuck," Jet says again, flopping down onto the mattress. Zuko nods shakily, tying off the condom and throwing it into Jet's trashcan, before falling onto the sheets.

"You okay?" he rasps, and Jet rolls, flopping one wiry arm over Zuko's waist. He grins, leaning in, and presses a kiss to Zuko's lips, and sighs.

"Sometimes I forget how fucking dramatic you are," he murmurs, and Zuko flushes. "You fucked me, Zuko, not break my heart. I can handle it, big boy."

Zuko sighs. "I didn't mean that, okay," he says. "I just...I don't want to mess this up." He gestures to the miniscule space between their bodies. "You're my friend. I just didn't want to blur the lines or anything."

Jet leans in and kisses him again. "You're a fucking mess, pretty boy," he says. "You're my friend. This changes nothing. I don't expect anything from you, you idiot."

Zuko laughs, mollified, and nudges Jet's shoulder, making him roll until he's on his side. "Fuck, fine," he grumbles, wrapping an arm around Jet's waist. "See if I worry about you ever again."

Jet laughs. "Please, Zuko," he scoffs. "What's that they say? 'Ye of little faith?' I handled your big boy, I can handle this."

Zuko groans, and Jet grins. "You're so cute, even if you're a pain in the ass," he says. He taps Zuko's arm, and rolls, nestling in the crook of Zuko's shoulder. "Go to sleep."

Zuko complies, pulling the sheets over their bodies, and pulls Jet close, burying his face in Jet's hair. Not the exact definition of Zuko's typical Friday night, but a memorable one, that's for sure.

~0~

His brains must be oozing from his ears. That's the only explanation for the piercing pain in his temples, the shooting sharpness of light slicing through his head.

Gingerly, he sits up, squinting in the sunlight. The room is unfamiliar, band posters on the walls rather than plain white, the sheets blue compared to his gray. 

Plus there's a tan lump lying next to him, love bites scattered across his shoulder. Zuko sighs, reaching over, gently nudging Jet awake.

"Hey," he says, and Jet groans in response, rolling over and blinking blearily up at him. "How are you doing?"

Jet moans in response. "Fuck dude," he mumbles out. "I hate you."

Zuko shrugs, pulling himself out of bed and reaching for his underwear. "You're the one who wanted sex, Jet," he says, and jet pokes his head out from the blankets. "Not my fault you can't keep up."

Jet laughs, and Zuko pilfers a t-shirt from his drawers. "Last I checked," Jet says, sitting up gingerly. "I could more or less keep up.  _ Ow." _

Zuko blinks, looking over to his housemate, finding him sitting up and rubbing at his back. His mouth goes dry at the tan skin exposed to him, the love bites smattered across Jet's chest, and wanders over. Jet sighs, reaching up blindly, and grabs Zuko's face, pulling him down for a kiss.

"Nothing changes, right?" Jet says. "Friends?" 

Zuko grins, kissing him again before pulling away. "Of course."

Jet smirks. "Well then," he says, already leaning back into the pillows, stretching out and exposing his long, lean torso. "As my friend, it's your job to go take care of me. Get me some coffee, pretty boy."

Zuko groans, but stands. He needs Advil anyway, so getting Jet some coffee in the meantime shouldn't be too hard. "Fine," he relents. "Can you handle being alone for a few?"

Jet's eyes wander, traveling down Zuko's front, undressing him under the sunlight. "I'm sure I can think of some things to occupy my time," he murmurs, and Zuko rolls his eyes.

"Right," Zuko murmurs, turning to leave. He makes it to the corner shop, grabbing a couple bottles of Gatorade and Advil, popping to the bakery and grabbing Jet's favorite iced coffee. Set with his provisions, he wanders back to the apartment, adamantly turning down another invite to a party tonight via text, and closes the door behind him.

Jet's still in bed when he comes back in, but he's made it to a sitting position. Zuko hands over the Advil, not after popping one himself, and Jet helps himself to the coffee.

It's quiet for a few minutes, so Zuko climbs back into bed, stripping his- Jet's- shirt off as he goes. "So," he says, and Jet stops slurping his coffee. "That was something."

Jet cracks a smile. "Yeah," he says. "I always knew you were packing, but damn, Zuko. I feel like I was rammed into next week."

Zuko laughs, rubbing his eyes, and sips some Gatorade. "I didn't hurt you too much, did I?"

Jet pulls his hand down, and Zuko blinks. "It'll take a lot to hurt me," Jet says, and pulls Zuko in. "Plus, I like it rough."

Zuko splutters, hands flailing, and Jet cackles. "You're so cute sometimes, Zuko," he says. "Even though you're hung like a dragon, you still act like a little kid sometimes."

"Shut up," Zuko grumbles, and Jet concedes, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. He pulls Zuko on top of him, hips grinding wantonly, and Zuko gasps, hands bracing on the headboard.

"Are you up for another round?" Jet asks, eyes flashing. Zuko frowns, trying to fight the urges springing up in his belly, but the way Jet's fingers are dipping under the waistband of his jeans is very distracting.

"Aren't you sore?" He asks, and Jet smirks.

"I am, but that's not what I had in mind."

Zuko freezes. "Oh," he murmurs. The image of him, riding Jet, flashes through him, red hot, and he groans. "Shit fuck, okay," he groans. 

Jet laughs, leaning up to kiss Zuko again. "Come on, pretty boy," he says, and Zuko's blood runs hot. He runs his tongue along the column of Zuko's throat, and whispers again in that low, rasping voice of his, eliciting memories of last night. " _ Show me what you got." _

~0~

It's a few months later, and Zuko wakes to an empty bed. He groans, stretches, and spots Katara's phone lying on the nightstand, still charging. However, the little minx in question is gone from her spot on the bed, and the shirt she'd torn off him last night is also missing. He sighs, rolling from the mattress, and finds a pair of sweats.

He hears Jet and Katara in the kitchen and yawns, opening the door to his bedroom. Wandering down the hall, he finds the co-conspirators in the kitchen, and Jet is currently concocting something  _ wonderful.  _

Katara looks up from her place on the counter, hair artfully mussed and wearing his shirt. "Hey, handsome," she says, and Zuko ambles over, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Yo, pretty boy," Jet says. "Sausage?" His eyes twinkle, and Zuko prepares himself. "Got us some thick boys today."

And there it is.

Zuko shoves Jet's shoulder playfully in response. "I can handle two," he retorts, and Jet's eyes gleam.

"I was just telling little Miss South Pole over here our adventures a few months ago," he says, and Zuko blinks, glancing over at Katara. They've been dating for a few months now, and she knows about his time with Jet, but he's never actually  _ told _ her about it. There's a gleam in her eyes, and he sits next to her cautiously.

Jet wanders over. "Yeah," he drawls. "You were a great time, pretty boy. Katara and I were just comparing."

Zuko splutters, and Katara laughs, rubbing his back. "Relax," she says helpfully, even though the sure way her fingers are pressing into his spine is anything  _ but _ . "We have nothing but good things to say."

Jet grins. "Yeah, in fact," he says. "You're just in time. I was just about to say, in case you two love birds ever get bored, I'm always up to be a third to make things more interesting."

Zuko chokes, falling off his seat. Katara smiles down at him, and Jet is cackling, and Zuko's pretty sure his brains are melting out of his head.

"I'm fine with it," Katara says, looking over at Jet as if her boyfriend didn't just have cardiac arrest right in front of her. "But just so you know, I'm gonna be possessive for a little bit. I just got him."

Jet smirks. "Of course," he says. "Completely understandable. Zuko's got a  _ lot _ to give." He winks down at his housemate, who is still a mute, blubbery mess on the floor. "But I'm sure you can handle him."

Katara laughs, and bends down, grabbing Zuko's hand and pulling him up. "Hey," she says. "You're all mine right now. We can talk about it later."

Zuko blinks, and she leans down, kissing him softly. "Another time," she says, and he drowns in the deep blue of her eyes. 

"Okay," is what he comes up with, and she laughs. 

"Come on, Jet," she urges, shoving Zuko into his seat. "I was promised pancakes."

They fall into an easy banter, with Katara's shoulder pressing against his and Jet manning the stove. It's a quiet peace, even with the bomb dropped previously, but Zuko stores that information away for another time. He's got his girlfriend and his best friend with him, and for now, that's all he needs.

Then Jet goes and slaps two sausages onto Zuko's face, with a "can you handle these, pretty boy," and it's basically all out war from there. Later, if the police ask what happened, he'll blame the sausage.

(Even if they were mighty tasty.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Huehuehur. Idk what I even wrote. It's ok to yell at me, I don't mind.
> 
> HOWEVER I will say this right now. I received a little hate on tumblr for writing Zutara and not Kataang, so I will say this now. Any hate, anonymously posted or otherwise, is not tolerated and will be removed. You guys have been wonderful here on AO3, but I do need to mention it. No flames, please.


End file.
